


The Winter Soldier, Captain America and Falcon Get in A Cab...

by mintedpotters



Series: MCUniverse [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Fix-It, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 20:22:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8815000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintedpotters/pseuds/mintedpotters
Summary: After a year of searching for Bucky, Sam and Steve return to DC.After a year of hiding from Sam and Steve, Bucky picks them up at the airport.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I'm ridiculously bitter about Civil War. So, I wrote a cute little thing to make up for the absolute lack of happiness in CA:CW.

It had been months since their last lead. The ghost story was fading again, and Steve Rogers could barely breathe to think of it. He and Sam had traveled all over the world, chasing Bucky Barnes, but Buck was always faster, always a step ahead. If Steve and Sam landed in Madrid, Bucky was already in Venezuela. Steve was losing hope that Bucky would even _want_ to be found. 

Which is why their arrival in DC was so unusual. 

Steve and Sam got off the plane, collected their bags, and walked outside to hail a cab. Before they'd even taken three steps toward the taxi rank, however, a car pulled up in front of them and that all-too familiar Brooklyn drawl was calling out to them. 

"Hey sugar, you rationed?" 

Steve dropped his bag, his knees buckled, and he was pretty sure that if Sam hadn't been a step behind him, he would've fallen. 

"Buck?" 

"Who else? Get in the car, punk. Bring your feathered friend," Bucky grinned, sure and cocky as ever. Steve could almost believe it, could almost fall right through the cracks and pretend they were back home, back in Brooklyn, with Bucky trying to convince Steve to go dancing. 

"Cap? How're we playing this?" Sam muttered behind him. Steve pulled himself together. 

"We spent nearly a year chasing him, Sam. He's come to us now and I'm not gonna pass that up." Steve picked up his bag and moved toward the sedate grey car Bucky waited in. 

He heard some kinda groaning behind him about _reckless idiots,_ and politely ignored it in favour of climbing into the passenger seat. 

"Hey, Stevie," Bucky grinned. God it was so familiar, so _real._ Steve was tempted to reach out and grab Bucky's hand, to prove to himself that this wasn't some fucked up delusion. 

"Hey, Buck," Steve smiled back, sounding only a little choked up. Bucky met Sam's gaze in the rear view mirror and tutted. 

"I was gone ten minutes, and you already replaced me," he sighed, feigning disappointment. Sam snorted from the back seat. 

"Man, I work with vets, and I have never seen a man mope more than Cap did when you didn't recognise him on the bridge," he said. Steve felt himself flush at the reminder. "Trust me, no one's replaced you." 

"Aw, Stevie, you missed me?" Bucky teased as they drove, quirking an eyebrow at his lifelong friend. 

"Thanks, Sam, he's never gonna drop it now," Steve groaned, dropping his head back against his seat. 

Sam snorted again and Bucky grinned. It was the same quick grin from _before,_ before war and blood and death and experiments and serums... Before trains and planes and falls and crashes... Steve felt his heart constrict as he watched Bucky drive with teary eyes. 

"So," Bucky spoke up five minutes later when they hit the freeway. His gaze flicked to Sam in the mirror. "You like birds?" 

"Buck..." Steve groaned. 

"What? A guy shows up wearing wings and calling himself the _Falcon_ \- cool name, by the way, dude - and you don't wanna know more?" Bucky defended. 

"Sam, ignore him, he's bein' a jerk," Steve said, but he was smiling. 

"Yeah, okay, punk," Bucky rolled his eyes. 

The rest of the drive went quickly. Soon enough, Bucky was pulling the car up beside Sam's house. 

"How'd you know where I live?" 

"How'd you think?" Bucky quipped. 

"I'm gonna have to get me a secret safe house soon, what with all the super soldiers and spies knowing where I live," Sam groaned. He lead the way inside, narrowing his eyes when Bucky headed straight for the kitchen and rummaged like he knew where everything was. 

"How long have you been staying here?" Steve asked, having noticed the same things Sam had. Bucky glanced at him over his shoulder, tucking his hair behind his ear. 

"Couple weeks. Since I left Romania." Bucky pulled out a covered pan that Sam and Steve both knew wasn't there when they left eight months ago. "I've been crashing here every so often, actually. Don't worry, I never slept in your rooms or took your clothes, if that's what you're thinking." 

"Not exactly," Sam muttered cautiously. 

"The memories started coming back about six months ago," Bucky explained, unprompted. "They were this big, disorganised mess of thoughts and emotions. It compromised my safety to be on the run while having flashbacks every twenty minutes. So, I did some research, figured out which of Stevie's pals would be the _least_ likely to shoot me in the face on sight, and found this place." 

"So you've been just coming back here whenever?" 

"Whenever I needed to recharge, or organise my head, or deal with any wounds - I cleaned up after myself, promise, you won't find a speck of my blood anywhere. It's safe, secure, and no one would think to look for the Winter Soldier here." Bucky shrugged. The movement made the plates in his left arm clink softly. "Although, I will need to see a technician soon; the arm's been malfunctioning, and Hydra only ever taught me enough to patch up minor damage." 

"Why wouldn't they give you full training on maintaining the arm?" Sam asked, but Steve's mind reached the conclusion before Bucky could open his mouth. 

"It gave them control. If Bucky knew exactly how the arm operated, and how to fix everything that went wrong with it, he wouldn't need to return to Hydra as often." Steve said, mostly guessing, but by the look in Bucky's eyes, he was right. 

"Try, at all," Bucky scoffed. "If I had the knowledge on the arm, I wouldn't return, and they knew that." He rolled his shoulder slowly. "Though I really wish they'd made it detachable." 

His attention turned back to the pan in his flesh hand. He uncovered it and set it atop the stove. He flicked on the hob. A few minutes later, the scent of steak and vegetable stew was filling the room. The three of them sat down to eat at Sam's dining table, Sam at the head, Bucky and Steve across from each other.

"I've been cooking a lot lately," Bucky said by way of explanation when Sam ducked into the fridge for a drink, raising his eyebrows at the amount of food. 

"Stress cooking?" Steve guessed. Then it was Bucky's turn to raise an eyebrow at him. 

"You'd be stressed too if you suddenly remembered your idiot best friend signing up for some wacko science experiment without knowing if it would kill him." Bucky's voice was low and calm, and Steve recognised the warning signs. Buck was _pissed._

"Bucky, I-" 

"Did they even tell you what would happen, Steve? Or did you just sign away your soul at the words 'we can get you on the front'?" Bucky's fingers drummed on the tabletop. He was fixing Steve with his practised _I'm so disappointed in you_ frown. Part of Steve knew it was best to get this all out in the open now, before it spilled out during something a little more life-threatening than dinner with an ex-assassin. Still, the rest of Steve was that stubborn kid from Brooklyn who couldn't pass up on a fight. 

"I had to do something, Buck, I couldn't just sit around at home and wait-"

"Funny you say that, since that's what you promised me you'd do," Bucky interrupted. 

"God, Buck, what would you have done? If it was me going to the lines, and you had to stay behind, what would you have done?" 

"I would've grabbed everything we owned and ran, made sure you wouldn't even touch that battlefield, Stevie." Steve could sense the pent up frustration behind his answer, but it didn't mean Steve liked it. 

"Buck that wouldn't have been your decision to make." 

"Better than sending my best guy off to die with a smile." 

"What, now you're blaming me for not pulling you outta the damn war? I _told_ you, when I got you outta that base, that you could go-"

"You really think I'd go anywhere but with you when you were too damn stubborn - no, too _dumb_ to run away from that kinda fight? No, Steve. I stayed because you stayed, nothing else to it. I don't blame you or resent you for it neither so get that stupid idea right outta your head." 

"I'm real sorry, Buck, you gotta know that, at least," Steve pleaded, watching Bucky with wide blue eyes. Eventually, the tension seeped out of Bucky's shoulders and his mouth loosened into what could almost pass for a smile. 

Then Sam opened his damn mouth. 

"Damn, I can only imagine the cat fight y'all must've had back in the war... especially once Steve told you about jumping on that grenade at basic-"

"You did _what now?!"_ Bucky reeled back, staring at Steve with a mixture of shock, anger and awe. 

"He didn't tell you?" Sam guessed, basing his assumption on Bucky's violent reaction and Steve's unhappy pout. 

"No, and I wasn't _gonna_ tell 'im," Steve grumbled. 

"You jumped on a fucking grenade!?" 

"Buck, it was a dummy grenade! It wasn't _real!"_ Steve rushed to defend himself, finding himself on the receiving end of a withering glare. 

"Did you know it was a dummy when you jumped on it?" 

"Well, no, I didn't know at the time, but-"

"WELL THEN I DON'T THINK THE GRENADE WAS THE ONLY DUMMY IN THIS SITUATION, STEVEN!" Bucky glared, breathing heavily. He stood from the table and stormed over to the living room. Steve sighed, but followed. He recognised the cue. When he reached Bucky's side, the older man was pacing rapidly. 

"You'll wear a track in Sam's floor if you keep that up," Steve tried to joke. Bucky whirled to face him. 

"I gave you _one_ instruction, Steve. I told you - I _begged_ you - to stay home, stay safe. I asked you not to do anything stupid." Bucky sounded drained. 

"To be fair, you did your fair share of stupid crap too," Steve pointed out helpfully, earning himself another weak glare. Then Bucky was grabbing his wrist and pulling him into a nearly bone crushing hug. 

"Damnit, Steve, I'm an old man. You'll give me a damn heart attack with all your reckless crap," Bucky sighed into Steve's neck. Their arms tightened around each other. 

"You're a jerk, you know that?" Steve chuckled, holding his best friend close. 

"And you're a self-sacrificing punk with a hero complex a mile wide. I think we're pretty well matched," Bucky grumbled. His tone was finally edging back to that familiar fondness Steve recalled from long nights long ago. 

They stood together for a few minutes, just holding each other, breathing each other in. Bucky _somehow_ had managed to maintain his classic smell. Steve had missed it so much in the years since waking up. He never thought he'd get to be close enough to catch it again. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in deeply. 

"You sniffin' me, punk?" Bucky teased. His tone was light and cheery again, and when Bucky turned his head to press closer to Steve's neck, Steve felt him smiling. 

"Trying to decide how many showers you're gonna need before I can do this without holding my breath the whole time, jerk," Steve quipped. Neither of them let go of the other. Until Sam poked his head in. 

"Tony called us in, Cap. Needs us in full gear. He's sending the jet for extraction in ten minutes." 

"Ugh, if I have to jump outta one more plane, I'm gonna hit something," Steve grumbled. 

"Yeah, yeah, just remember to put on a damn parachute this time, would you? You make the rest of us nervous when you leave it off." 

Steve could feel the exact second Sam's words registered with Bucky. He went stiff and pulled back. 

"Before you say anything, there weren't that many chutes in the last plane I was in, compared to how many people there were, and I didn't really _need_ one anyway-"

"Steven. Grant. Rogers. You are so damn lucky your ma ain't here to box your ear," Bucky growled. 

"Guess you'll just have to do it for her when I get back," Steve tried to joke, smiling at Bucky carefully. Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled Steve back into his chest. 

"You really did keep the uniform," Bucky huffed a laugh five minutes later when Steve emerged in his 21st Century Cap uniform. 

"Told ya it was growin' on me." 

**FIN.**


End file.
